When you see the sheriff, it means that an abstraction of a cowboy leaves. If the customer beyond a chess board sells some minivan about the traffic light to some greasy blood clot, then a knowingly treacherous salad dressing panics.
Sounds like something from a beat generation poet, don't you think?
A graduated cylinder related to a stovepipe throws a thoroughly impromptu bullfrog at a steam engine, or an infected apartment building finds subtle faults with a crispy traffic light.
If you're a fiction writer and are unable to harvest at least three story ideas from those excerpts, you're just not trying very hard. But even if you're not in the mood to write an entire novel, you could have some fun with this: just string together two or three of these sentences, apply a little judicious editing, and you'll have an excellent entry for the next Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.
Come to think of it, a couple of last year's winners did look familiar....
Technorati Tags: spam+poetry, Bulwer-Lytton
5 comments:
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Deep.
"When you see the sheriff, it means that an abstraction of a cowboy leaves."
You know, I can see real meaning in that. Fabulous.
I had one this morning with the subject line "Ms. Idealism". And yesterday I had "dismount improbable". Both made me chuckle.
Hey, they got sign-in working for blogger beta! :-)
I agree, and with all of the stuff I get with the nick name of Sir John, it make trying to explan it to my new wife very interesting. I am luck in one thing, she is a computer programer and understands.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Sir John, congratulations on your recent marriage.
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